


Totally Worth It

by fanficsandfluff



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cheering Up, Crying, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reginald Hargreeves Bashing, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Tickle Fights, Tickling, lee!diego, ler!luther, sibling tickle fight, ticklish!diego
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficsandfluff/pseuds/fanficsandfluff
Summary: Takes place after the dinner in S2E6 (in which where they discovered Elliot doesn’t happen :))) ). I accidentally deleted this entire fic once before, but I had the urge to attempt a rewrite.Some very minor spoilers if you haven’t watched Season 2, I guess. I reference a scene in S2, but it’s basically just Reginald being a bad dad and we’ve all seen that before lol.Luther is a good brother <3
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Totally Worth It

_**You fancy yourself a do-gooder?** _

Diego drove him and Luther back to Elliot’s place after the largely unsuccessful dinner with Reginald Hargreeves. Admittedly, he was distracted, Luther having to yell at him to adhere to a stop sign or two during their trip. 

“You want a beer?”

Diego had to really focus to hear his brother’s words and not just the muffled mess that made its way into his ears. When he saw Luther looking at him expectantly, he cleared his throat and responded with a quick, “Yeah.”

**_Delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia._ **

Diego’s head twitched in the effort to try and clear these words out of his fuzzy mind. He flopped onto the couch, sitting with a pretty severe hunch. 

_**You fancy yourself a do-gooder? This is a fantastic delusion.** _

Diego felt a shiver run through his body and he hated it. He hated every second of feeling this way. But hey, what was he to expect from Sir Reginald Hargreeves in the flesh? Just like old times… 

Luther, meanwhile, was observantly checking in on his brother. Dad had hit Diego especially hard. And man, Luther knew how it felt to be there. Hell, he was there so hard and for so long it sent him to the damn moon. Even though they were the same age, Luther was Number 1 for a reason, always having those big brother instincts. He figured it was best to leave Diego alone on the car ride back (except when he was about to run a red light or a stop sign, of course. safety first). But seeing him now, looking almost on the verge of tears, and _quiet_ , so so quiet… it bothered him. Maybe now was the time to try some jokes or to strike up a conversation. Something. He’ll figure it out.

Luther pulled two beer cans from the fridge and he chucked one at Diego, said can squarely smashing into Diego’s unsuspecting jaw, causing both siblings to exclaim. 

“Ow! What the fuck–”

“Sorry! Oh geez, I’m sorry!”

Luther hurried over to the sofa and he hunched over, placing a worried hand on Diego’s shoulder. Diego shrugged it off, rubbing his jaw, “Man, you gotta be more careful–”

“Sorry, Diego, I thought you were paying attention,” seeing that Diego was fine, Luther relaxed and sat himself next to his brother on the sofa, “So much for those great reflexes, huh?” he teased. 

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Diego cracked open his can and started chugging. 

_**The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning.** _

The more he chugged, the louder the voice in his head got. That wasn’t supposed to happen, dammit, it was supposed to go the other way. Diego finished his entire can and he took a deep breath afterward. The knifeman felt his eyes burning next and it made him freeze up. He couldn’t look at Luther, not now, not with how he was feeling. Sir Reginald Hargreeves just had that way about him that made anyone who approached him feel so… small. Diego felt small at that dinner table. He felt like he was shrinking tinier and tinier with each insufferably big smart word the man used against him, like each word was a weight being pressed and added to his shoulders. It was so stifling. No one deserves to be treated like that. But that was dad. 

_**A man in over his head.** _

Diego leaned forward and buried his face into his hands, letting the empty beer can fall to the floor with a thunk. 

Luther observed, taking an uncomfortable swallow of his own drink. 

“Diego? Hey, you okay?” he could’ve sworn he heard a sniffle or two coming from the smaller man. 

Diego quickly started to wipe at his eyes with his palms, his wrists, anything that was dry. He took in a shaky breath, “I-I’m not d-d-desperate. I’m n-not.” 

“No, of course you’re not, buddy,” Luther’s entire face read of concern. 

“A-And I’m not insignificant o-or del-d-de….. fuck!” Diego growled and he pressed his palms into his eye sockets harder, as if he wanted to plug up the tears. 

“You’re not any of the things dad called you,” Luther firmly stated, “You can’t let what he says get to you. Trust me, I let it get to me for years.”

Diego sniffled again and he tried calming down, “That man… he’s just so-so fucking…” his fist was balled up and shaking.

“Stupid.”

“He’s the one who’s insignificant.”

“Damn right.”

Diego now looked at Luther, running his hand once more down his face. 

“He’s not human, man. He gets under your skin a-and just twists and pinches and stabs. He’s a dick.”

Luther huffed and a smile broke onto his face, “He’s a real dick. And he’s weird-looking.”

“And old.”

“Skinny.”

“He’s got a mustache.”

Diego and Luther made eye-contact, a silence created for a split second before both parties started to giggle. 

“You can’t take anything dad says seriously. He wants to make you feel less than him, it’s his whole evil plan,” Luther said once their giggles died down, “I know you’re not any of the things he called you tonight. And that should matter more,” he squeezed Diego’s shoulder affectionately, “So, for right now, how about we drink more beers until we can’t even remember who Reginald Hargreeves is?” Luther smiled. 

Diego’s eyebrow raised skeptically, “You sure he didn’t mess with you, too, big guy?”

Luther aimed a poke at Diego’s side, and it landed, causing the knifeman to jerk and quickly cover up, “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

When Luther stood up, the sofa made an uncharacteristic squeak and Diego felt himself sinking into the fabric further than he did before. He bit his lip to hold back a comment that he wanted to make, but a smile still broke through. 

“What?” Luther saw Diego’s face, and he didn’t even need a verbal answer before he just _knew_ , “If you’re gonna say anything about my w–”

“Dahamn, Luther, you’re really putting this couch through a lot.”

Luther took a menacing step towards Diego and the smaller man raised his hands in the air in surrender.

“Not another word. I hear a fat joke and you’re dead,” but there was no hatred in this threat. Luther turned back around to get them more beers for their impending night of drinking. 

Diego was wracking his brain to come up with another insult. It was funny. It was just really funny. And right now he needed some funny. Even if he got punched by Luther, maybe it would help knock anything dad said about him earlier clean out of his head. But even messing with his brother was already doing the trick. 

“Whose ass is fatter? Yours or King Kong’s?”

And in no time, Luther was vaulting himself at Diego. Diego scrambled to get out of the way, but he was just too slow and Luther had taken too big steps to have any hope of beating him. Luther threw himself onto the couch to pin Diego, but at the exact moment he landed, a sickening crack resounded in the air and Luther and Diego went tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs and wood and sofa fabric. Diego immediately burst into laughter. 

“You’re such a punk,” Luther growled after a few seconds of listening to his brother’s cackling, and his hand found Diego’s ribs and started to squeeze. Diego jerked roughly and his laughter rose to a squeaky pitch. 

“NO! No nnnonono fuhuck! Luther!” Diego tried to get away, he really did(n’t). But Luther’s stronger and determined hand remained latched onto Diego’s ribs, while his other was fending off Diego’s flailing arms. 

“What? You seemed to think this was funny like a second ago,” Luther had no issues teasing his siblings when it came to tickle fights. He may not have been that good at it until his transformation, however. Because now he had the brawn to back whatever dumb retorts were coming out of his mouth. 

“I swear to gohod I’m gonna fucking stahahab you!” Diego choked out in relatively one breath while trying to hold out. He tried to growl, he tried to sound intimidating. But it just didn’t work. 

“Go ahead, tough guy,” Luther didn’t want to waste any time and he clawed up one hand and dug it into the squishier part of Diego’s belly, right under his belly button. The man’s button down had ridden up in his position, pinned between an upturned half of the broken couch and Luther. Diego screamed and his laughter increased in volume and pitch. One booted foot was scraping its heel against the floor in desperation. 

Luther was feeling so proud that he could be making his brother laugh like this right now. He knew he needed it. And seeing Diego’s slightly puffy eyes all crinkled and his mouth split in a huge open smile… alright, stop getting sappy. But it was kinda endearing. And so what if he might genuinely get stabbed over this later? It would be worth it. Totally worth it. 

Diego snorted when Luther scratched at his lower tummy with one hand as another hand felt around for some leg. It found Diego’s thigh and the tips of his fingers dug in torturously into a sweet spot right above the inner thigh, sending the smaller brother through the roof with new waves of laughter. 

Through all of this, Luther remained aware of the injury Diego suffered somewhere around his midsection. He made sure to take gentler methods when tickling his ribs or sides. He preferred his belly, though, since it was exposed perfectly due to this very odd position they found themselves in. 

“Luther, p-p-ppleehehehease!” Diego cackled when Luther took both hands to his hips, switching between digging his thumbs into the divots and totally scratching away at his belly, all in the same vicinity so it was quite easy to do so. The brothers had slid onto the floor by now.

“Alright,” Luther gave in and he relinquished any ticklish hold he had on his brother. He basked in hearing Diego’s giggles die down slowly, as if they lingered in the air on purpose, like it was some healing sound. Luther shifted himself so he was sitting upright and when he felt Diego calmed down enough, he extended a hand out to also help him up.

Diego flinched, “D-Dohon’t touch me.”

Luther chuckled heartily at that reaction, “Easy, I wasn’t gonna tickle you.”

Diego sat himself up and he tried glaring Luther’s way. But he just couldn’t. Instead, he found himself blushing. 

“You still want those beers?”

“Yeah,” Diego smiled, grateful for his brother. 

Luther jabbed a finger into Diego’s side before he stood up, making the smaller man curl up and snort. He just couldn’t help himself. 

And even with a broken couch they’d have to explain to Elliot somehow, Luther wound up enjoying the night. He got Diego to forget about dad for the time being and he got to hear the guy’s crazy, entertaining, endearing laughter. And yeah, maybe the tweezer in his bicep was worth it. If it got Diego to laugh again, it was totally worth it. Fuck their dad. 


End file.
